Fight
by LlewellynPrince
Summary: Bates fights with intelligence. Teyla fights with knowledge. FINISHED!


Title: Fight  
Author: Llewellynprince  
Rating: R- -Porn-21  
Pairings: Michael Bates/Teyla Emmagan  
Category: Romance  
Summary: Bates fights with intelligence. Teyla fights with knowledge.  
Notes: un-beta'd

* * *

He's apologized several times. 

She's accepted every time.

So Bates wonders why she still won't agree to train him the way she does Sheppard.

Sheppard just laughs every time he asks and says he'd have to ask her.

Teyla just smiles serenely every time and shakes her head.

He didn't understand until he watched one of their practices. They way they moved with each other. It was like a dance. So well choreographed that you'd bet your life it wasn't planned at all. Near misses and hits. Grabs, throws, and punches that don't belong in this style of fighting. It's the same when she trains with Ronon. A dance of death. The simplest mistake leading to injury.

He usually just watched for few moments before leaving, but today he stayed. The three of them were the only ones practicing today. The Daedelus had just returned with another shipment of supplies and McKay was already claiming his share of the coffee and chocolate, Bates had convinced him to grab some for him as well and the other soldiers were hanging out in the rec rooms with the newest DVDs and such. He's pretty sure someone's got popcorn and he grins at the thought of all the drills their going to have to run tomorrow as punishment for the fights.

He tuned back into the fight. The security cameras film and record everything. He's stayed up late at night watching, studying their moves and he's pretty sure he's got them down to a T.

Sheppard always smirks whenever he's about to lunge, it throws you off balance.

Ronon uses size to his advantage, and favors his left leg, an old injury possibly, right before every lunge.

Teyla's right arm delivers the most powerful blows, and she flexes her grip before every attack.

She doesn't lunge.

Sheppard laughs as Ronon dances away from his attack and their joking, playing.

For some reason that reassure him about the safety of Atlantis.

"Sergeant," Teyla's the first to see him. Sheppard and Ronon turn to him.

"Hey, Bates what's up? Rodney didn't break anything again did he?" A worried look crosses his face then fades away with a shake of his head.

"Sir-"

"Ask Teyla," Sheppard interrupts before he can finish his sentence.

He frowns but nods as Sheppard goes back to talking to Ronon. Teyla is standing expectantly at the edge of the mat, her head cocked to the side, watching his slow approach.

He's dragging his heels he knows and mentally chastises himself for it. By the time he's reached her he's walking normally, back ramrod straight.

"Miss Emmagan."

"Sergeant." He sees a ghost of disappointment in her eyes, before she smiles and says, "Yes?"

"Will you train me?" it's the best he can come up with and he chastises himself again that he couldn't think of a better way to ask. Sheppard and Ronon are watching and making themselves look pretty stupid trying to hide it. He cast a glance their way and they stop trying to hide it and watch openly instead.

Teyla smiled sadly. "Sergeant, I'm sorry." She casts a glance Sheppard and Ronon's way and he realizes why she always turns him down.

She's afraid to hurt him.

Ronon's been fighting the wraith for seven years and Sheppard did a black ops stint; as far as she knows he's never even had a combat lesson.

And while she's expertly controlled with the other soldiers, she's got a bit of anger at him left over from before.

For some reason that makes him angry and his expression darkens. "One fight."

She shakes her head and he frowns, studying her.

"You should give people a chance before jumping to conclusions about their skills and abilities," he says coolly and she's surprised, whether it's from his tone or his words he doesn't know. Ronon makes a move towards him but Sheppard stops him. He might be an air head sometimes, but he understands.

She's staring at him and he can almost see her admit to herself that he's right; it gives him a ridiculous amount of pleasure.

Finally she nods in assent and picks up her sticks. Bates trades his P90 for Sheppard's sticks and takes up position on the mat.

It's a fighting stance he picked up from Bra'tac and Teal'c and she studies it for a moment before taking up her own stance. He can see her muscles tense under the smooth skin and he realizes that she has just realized that she has underestimated him.

Of all the soldiers on the expedition only he and Stackhouse operated on SG off-world teams before, though most of the soldiers were posted at the base at some point. Still, it gives them an edge over the other soldiers; they know what to expect…anything.

He rests on the balls of his feet as she balances. Neither moves and he can sense more then see Sheppard shift on his feet.

Teyla is the better fighter of them all. She has patience, training. Experience may be on Sheppard and Ronon's side but they aren't patient the way she is. She thinks ahead and sometimes he thinks she's got the whole fight planned out in her head before the first blow lands.

_**block**_

He can see surprise on her face, and she seems pleased as well.

_**attack**_

He makes to slam both his sticks against her stomach but she twists out of the way.

_**faint**_

Her brow furrows as she recognizes a move that Sheppard uses against her constantly.

Perhaps she underestimated him. Perhaps she should have taken him up on the offer to train him sooner.

She will rectify that mistake soon.

She attacks with her left hand, he blocks with his, she uses her right to break his block and he traps her right between both of his, the move surprises her but not nearly as much as the next part. He twists so their backs are to one another and their hands trapped above their heads. She recognizes the intelligence of the move. Trap yourself, trap your opponent.

Bates is an intelligent fighter.

Ronon is a practiced fighter. He fights with his skill.

Sheppard is an instinctive fighter. He fights with his gut.

Teyla fights with her knowledge.

The next thing she knows he dropping to his knees pulling her over his head and she barely manages to twist in time to land on her feet. She allowed herself to be distracted she realizes and looks up.

He's holding her sticks. His face emotionless, but in his eyes she thinks she sees something. A spark of an emotion she did not think she would get the chance to experience.

Behind him Sheppard and Ronon are staring with their mouths open in shock, the look they get when ever Rodney pulls a miracle out of thin air.

She's skilled, so are Sheppard and Ronon and while they might have him bested in hand to hand combat as they call it, just barely, he has one advantage they don't. He knows his opponent. They didn't think he was good enough to watch out for. One time, when Bra'tac was at the SGC for a couple of weeks, Bates and some of the other soldiers had talked him into training them and they'd kept up that training with Teal'c; he knows how to learn and turn that against his opponent.

And that makes him _very_ dangerous.

She nods her head, admitting his victory.

* * *

He feels nervous; he doesn't know why she invited him to her quarters via Sheppard. All he knows is that the grin on Sheppard's face makes him nervous as he knocks. He's in BDUs and a tee-shirt, relaxed for him and he nods as she opens the door. She's wearing the outfit she wore when they first met, the one that symbolizes she is leader of her people.

The one he has to admit makes her look damn good.

Her room is decorated simply. Things from the mainland, a few pictures she has gained since someone admitted they had a camera. The furniture is low, like the Japanese style back home on Earth; the style always made him feel boxed in.

He sits calmly across from her, sipping the tea politely, even though she can tell he doesn't like it. Her lips twitch in amusement as he glances around her room nervously. He looks, as the Tau'ri say, 'like a fish out of water'.

She smiles, hoping to reassure him, it only seems to make him more nervous.

She frowned. "Why do you not trust me?"

He glanced at her, meeting her eyes for the first time since he's arrived. He frowned. "Its not that I don't trust you…well, it is in a sense," he sighed, she looked hurt. "Uh, look. It was more of wrong time, wrong place. I spent five years on SG-13; I know what its like to walk through the gate and not know what is going to be on the other side. I know you've heard all the stories about the friends SG-1 made, but we got double crossed just as many times, and then there was the Goa'uld and you just really couldn't trust anyone right out unless you had a death wish," he sighed again, placing his tea cup back on the table. She cocked her head to the side and gave him that damn serene smile again.

"So, it was not a personal dislike for me?"

"It wasn't until that whole tracking incident, afterward it was like before. You're strange, you're new, and I don't understand you." At that admission they both go silent; she in surprise, he in regret.

He hadn't meant to say that.

She blinked, staring at him calmly; she hasn't moved an inch when he looks up.

Then, remarkably she smiled. "I do not understand you either." She admitted, watching surprise blossom over his features.

And then the next thing she knows is his tongue in her mouth, his hands up her top, and she herself on his lap on the edge of her bed. Briefly she wonders at his speed, as Sheppard had warned her, men on Earth tended to move fast, she had not thought he meant it literally.

Fire dances from the places where his finger tips touch and she arches, allowing her body to take control. He's surprised she hasn't hit him yet. But instead she reacts. She arches into his touch, her skin burns, and he is swamped by a need he has not felt for a long time, and never for someone from another world.

He bits down on her neck, tasting her, learning her, he's torn between taking her hard and fast or slow and sweet. Both are tempting and he doesn't know if he'll get another chance.

She sighs when he bites her neck, knowing full well it will leave a mark, and their clothes are quickly gone.

He's built just like she suspected sinewy muscle under smooth skin, scarred in some places. His weight is warm and comforting on a level she has not experienced before.

It ends up being hard and fast, because once he's buried in her he can't stop. It's like being wrapped in a hot wrap, tight and god it feels good. Her fingers are going to leave bruises if they don't draw blood first and her legs are like a vice, strong and muscled and they slide together.

He has her arms pinned, its hard and fast and she feels a sudden heady rush of power that she can make him, a man known for his control, lose that control.

He catches her mouth as he moves and when that final blinding white avalanche comes, there's nothing but silence outside and a scream of release inside.

* * *

...darfod... 


End file.
